Dirty Mafia Sinner (Dirty Mafia Kingdom #2)

Epilogue

SANDRO

I have her exactly where I want her.

By my side, in my bed, at my command.

The latest addition to the Beneventi famiglia—though she’s insisting on a long engagement.

“Take off your dress,” I tell her.

She nervously glances around the hallway leading to my office. “Now?” she murmurs, though I spy the excitement in her eyes. “Your family are visiting.”

“They can wait.”

“Or discover us making love right here in the hallway.”

Making love. The phrase used to set me on edge. I’m a man who thrives on control yet couldn’t get a grip on my fucking feelings. Hell, I wasn’t certain I had feelings of the tender sort before I fell for Riley.

I don’t correct her. Even if this will be a quick, hard fuck, in one shape or form, I’ll be loving her.

She flushes a gorgeous shade of pink as her hands find my belt. My girl’s suddenly on the same page. I let her take me out and stroke me. Watching her get off on pleasuring me the same way I do when I go down on her sweet pussy.

The thought alone makes me hard.

“Use your belt,” she mutters, positioning her arms behind her back.

Fuck, the crazy shit I want to show her. The limits we’ve yet to test.

This world isn’t for the meek. And ask anyone, I’m not the easiest man to please. Why she trusts me is a goddamn mystery. But every day, I try to live up to that trust.

I carefully wrap the belt around her wrists, push her back against the wall with a thump, and rip the neckline of her dress clear to the waist.

Her lips form an “O.”

Never will I grow tired of the sight. “Come to daddy, my babies.”

She laughs. “You’re obsessed.”

“You’re the most beautiful thing in my life.” I lean in and lick her jawline, then leave a trail all the way down to a breast. “And my dirty fuckdoll to do with as I want.”

“If you’d stop talking…” I frown. “…and get busy pumping me full of come.” Her eyes flash, and in this exact moment, I realize I’m truly, thoroughly fucked. “I want it dripping down my thigh when we go back to the party.”

Jesus. I’ve died and gone to hell.

“Keep mouthing off,” I growl, “and I’ll punish you.”

“Still talking?”

I hoist her up, anchor her on my hips, and drive home so hard, her back slides up the wall.

“Finally,” she gasps.

I crash my lips into hers, shutting her up. I thrust into her and set a frantic pace. We’re both sweaty and flushed by the time she crests, chanting my name as I push her over the ledge.

Alessandro. Alessandro .

I relax my hold and allow gravity to pull her fully onto me. I hiss and curse, and then do what she demanded I do and fill her womb with my seed.

We take a moment to catch our breath before I gently set her on her feet.

“You hurt me,” I tell her, more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt in my life.

Alarm fills her expression. “I did? Where?” Frantic, she looks me over until I grab her hand, place it over my heart, and end her worries. “Here.”

“Alessandro,” she whispers. Then she balances on her toes and kisses me.

A man can grow used to this softer bullshit.

Finally, she breaks away, and then blushes as she glances down at her ruined dress.

“Think anyone will notice I’ve changed?”

I take in her wild hair, pink cheeks, and as I release her wrists from the belt, the chafing found there, then I lie.

“No one will look twice.”

RILEY

“Can’t keep his filthy mitts off you, can he?” Renzo comments, sauntering up to stand beside me the minute I return to the party.

My mouth falls open, but I hastily compose myself. “I just spilled a drink on myself.”

“And I just shot myself in the arm.”

I steal a glance at his cast, the result of a mysterious bullet wound and the surgery that followed, then let my gaze drift down to the all-too-familiar monitor around his ankle. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Only for the woman who tamed that asshole,” he says, nodding toward Alessandro, who is speaking to Alessia. Whatever he says makes her look away, while he resumes angrily scrolling through his phone.

My eyes widen as his father swiftly closes the distance between them. I’m terrified for Alessandro, and with good reason. The capo di tutti capi of the Eleven is not only handsome and wickedly charming but also notoriously cunning and, according to rumors, quite skilled with a chain saw.

Don Beneventi says something, then snatches the phone from Alessandro’s hand.

I start to step forward, but Renzo grabs my arm. “You think you can protect my brother from our father?”

We watch as Alessandro leans back, smirks, and says something in return. Then both men study whatever’s on the screen with rapt attention.

Renzo chuckles. “As you were saying, what favor?”

“When you escape this time, don’t jump.”

“Maybe I’ll stick around awhile?”

I search his expression to see if he’s serious. “Alessandro would like that.”

Renzo’s expression turns serious. “You really love the asshole, don't you?”

I chuckle. “I really do.”

Suddenly, I’m pulled into a warm hug.

Just as quickly, Alessandro is at our side, escorting Renzo away from me. “What the hell?”

Renzo straightens up. “She’s a keeper, brother.”

Alessandro’s gaze softens as our eyes meet. “And that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

RENZO

How is it two of the most stubborn, arrogant bastards to ever climb the ranks of the mafiosi’s Eleven Families are madly in love, while the only Beneventi with a heart gets shot in the arm by his one true love?

Fucked up, right?

What if I told you I deserved it—more than deserved it, practically waved a red flag at Elia Seraphina Lombardi and begged her to end my misery?

We fell in love at thirteen, stole each other’s innocence at sixteen, and lived wild and carefree through part of our seventeenth year—until the powers that be ruined our fun. Her father, Don Lombardi, is my father’s biggest rival. And if he despised my family before, he’s hell-bent on ruining us now that I’ve tainted his daughter’s reputation. For the record, Elia Seraphina Lombardi seduced me. Not sure if it was to escape walking down the aisle, trapped in an arranged marriage, or if I’m just that charming. Elia’s beautiful and resourceful.

And vindictive—if my arm isn’t proof, I don’t know what is.

I was in a near comatose state, enjoying the effects of the drugs I took and the wild orgy going on around me inside Rome’s most notorious pleasure house, when she burst into the room, Glock loaded, raised, and intended for me.

I waved her over with a warm welcome, my arm weighing a ton as I raised it high. She was wearing a bright blue ball gown and a fucking tiara, looking like a cartoon princess who ventured into a carnival fun house. “Fina,” I called to her, laughing as her name echoed around the room.

Fina. Fina. Fina.

I remember her on my shoulders at the beach as we jumped waves.

I remember laughing at her antics when her new birthday present—a top-of-the-line, fully equipped Mercedes convertible—overheated in the Arizona desert. She kicked all four wheels, when the issue was beneath the hood. Later, while waiting for a tow, we fucked in the backseat with the roof down.

I remember her whispering she loves me.

I remember everything.

Fina. Fina. Fina.

Reality blew the memory apart with a bang, and I was barely cognizant when she fucking shot me.

My arm will heal. My pride? Already nonexistent. But this time, I really screwed up, and she’s done with me for real.

Alessia nudges my good arm. “You okay, Renzo?”

“Just great,” I reply with a smile.

Except I’m lying. My father and brother might be stubborn fuckheads, but they’ve got nothing on me when it comes to pain.

I live for it.

I breathe it in like oxygen.

And I destroyed my one true love, and became a bitch to it.

THE END

Like Dirty Mafia Sinner ?

Please leave a quick RATING here.

Have you read Dirty Mafia King (Sebastiano’s story)?

FIND IT HERE

Read a Sneak Peek of

Dirty Mafia King